The Natural Progression of Things
by davidandbillie
Summary: This is my first Fan fic! Inspired by the scene where Hugh, Phryne and Dot find the Inspectors secret stash of biscuits. I realised that "Someone" had to cook for Jack. Complete.
1. The Inspectors Secret Stash

The Natural Progression of Things

_This is my first Fan fic! Inspired by the scene where Hugh, Phryne and Dot find the Inspectors secret stash of biscuits. I realised that "Someone" had to cook for Jack. _

The Inspectors Secret Stash

It all began so innocently one morning, as Hugh Collins was watching Dot make biscuits. Hugh had a day off work and had arranged for him and Dot to take the tram into the city. They wanted to wander around the stores with the intent of having a lunch somewhere, but it was raining when he arrived at the Fisher household. Somehow, watching Dot make biscuits was an easier option than tramping around a cold wet city. Dot was at the kitchen table, making ginger snaps, a particular favourite of more than one policeman at City South Police Station.

"Perhaps you should make some of these for the Inspector" said Hugh. He sat as he usually did when "off duty": at home astride a kitchen chair, his arms resting across its back. He stole a piece of dough that was looking lonely on the edge of the rolling sheet.

"And why would I do that? Asked Dot, ignoring the liberties Hugh took with her biscuit dough.

"I think his secret stash must be all gone", replied Hugh, stealing more. "The inspector has been seen searching out the biscuit tin in the staff room this week."

"So, why would it be my job to make the Inspector more biscuits?" asked Dot, "Not that I'd mind. Doesn't he have a house keeper to replenish his supply?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. Must be on holidays or off visiting" Hugh was intent on eating more raw dough.

Dot looked at Hugh, and then at Mr Butler, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper with a cup of tea in front of him.

"You may as well cook more Dorothy, said Mr Butler, not looking up from his paper, "I don't think Constable Collins will leave enough of this batch for anyone to get the finished product!"

Hugh flushed and retracted his hand from stealing more dough. Dot just smiled.

It was later that morning when the biscuits were cooked and cooling on a wire rack. The rain had eased, so Dot and Hugh stepped out. The biscuit baking was finished by Mr Butler, who was partial to a ginger snap himself. Jane joined him at the kitchen table, preferring a book to the paper.

Dot and Hugh returned to the kitchen, Dot shaking rain drops off her coat.

"All done Mr B?" she asked, somewhat unnecessarily.

"All done Dorothy, and I have found a small box for you to parcel some biscuits up for the Inspector" replied Mr Butler. "Tea?"

"Thanks Mr B" said Dot.

Hugh managed a "Yeah, Ta" through a mouthful of Gingersnap, while giving Jane's hair plait a quick tug. Jane responded with a glare at Hugh, who returned her glare with a feint to her plait. The glare/ feint pattern continued and Jane fell into giggles.

Dot ignored the frivolity with the air of one who grew up with siblings. She started putting biscuits in the small cardboard box. "You can take these into the Inspector tomorrow Hugh" she said, tying the box securely with string.

Hugh did not answer, ceased his teasing of Jane and suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Is there a problem?" asked Dot

Hugh squirmed a little. "It will look a little strange if I take them into the Inspector" he said. "The other blokes might think I'm trying to charm him up or something!"

Dot was taken back. "Hugh Collins, you asked me to make biscuits for the Inspector, and now you are refusing to take them! How do you plan to get the biscuits to the Inspector if you won't take them?"

"Could you bring them in tomorrow, please Dottie?" asked Hugh with his most pleading look.

"Me!" exclaimed Dot, "Hugh Collins that would look somewhat inappropriate if your intended lady bought in gifts for your boss!"

"Hmm": was Hugh's sole response to the dilemma he had created.

Mr Butler gave a little sigh as he set down the teapot. "I do believe I can think of a solution" he said.

Hugh and Dot gave him their full attention.

"My suggestion" continued Mr Butler "Is that Dorothy takes in two boxes tomorrow. A larger one for the general staff room, and a smaller parcel for the Inspector. If the larger box of biscuits is handed over first, then a side step by Hugh to the Inspectors office will hardly be noticed."

"Brilliant plan!" enthused Hugh, charmed by the simple answers to life's problems.

"But Mr B" said Dot, "Why would I be taking biscuits along to the station, when I only saw Hugh today?"

Mr Butler regarded her with a small smile "Really Dorothy, why would you need an excuse to visit your betrothed. Don't you want to see him every day?"

Dot flushed and there was a gentle chuckle all round!

The following morning, Dot braved wind and rain to find herself at the front door of City South police station carrying a basket with the boxes inside. "I don't know why I agreed to this" she muttered as she pushed open the front door.

Sargent Green recognised her as soon as she stepped in. "Why Miss Williams" he called "What brings you here on such a cold wet day?"

Dot braved her most winning smile. "I thought I would bring Hugh a treat. But, then I also thought that it would be rude of me not to include the rest of the station"

"Really!" exclaimed Sargent Green, "And what treat would Collins expect, that you could share with us all?"

Dot decided that he really was a slimy snake and she did not care for his attitude or smile at all!

"Ginger snaps" she declared, presenting the larger box from her basket.

The slimy smile was immediately replaced by a genuine smile. "Oh, aren't you wonderful" he rattled, "We haven't had homemade biscuits here for donkey's years. Well, not for a few weeks at least!"

Hugh rushed in at the sound of her voice. "Dottie" he called "Biscuits, Yum!"

"Collins, you look after this girlie" Sargent Green told Hugh "She's a treasure and a keeper if she brings food to the station for you!"

Hugh chuckled and winked at Dot, as the Sargent opened the box. Dot wasn't sure if the Ginger snaps would make it as far as the tea room!

Sargent Green carried the box out of the main room, heading toward the back of the station. Dot caught Hugh's attention, and nodded toward the Inspectors office. "Here you are" she whispered as she bought the smaller cardboard box out of her basket.

"Great, Just the ticket" whispered Hugh as he took the biscuits and turned toward the office.

"Hey, Hang on there Collins, What have you got there?" exclaimed Sargent Green, who had turned around at an inopportune time.

Hugh froze, faltered, and then looked at Dot in hope. "Some biscuits for the Inspector" he managed.

"Are you trying to charm up the Inspector? " quizzed Sargent Green. He looked at Dot. "What are you after, buttering up the old guy?"

Dot decided that: firstly, the Inspector could not be in his office, and secondly: Sargent Green really was a snake. However, she turned on her smile again and replied "Well Hugh has been working a lot of over time lately, and could do with an extra day off. And I believe that the Inspector is the person who decides if extra time off should be rewarded!" Her smile was plastered on.

Sargent Green considered that, and looked form Dot to Hugh and back again. Then he threw back his head and laughed. "What a girlie" he chuckled "Talk about guts, buttering up the old guy with food. Good luck to you girlie, you'll go far!" And he wandered off into the corridors of the police station.

Hugh looked at Dot who returned his gaze. "Well, go on, put it on his desk" she mouthed and made motions with her hands to encourage Hugh to move.

"Oh, right" gabbled Hugh and rushed into the Inspectors empty office, placed the box of biscuits on the desk and rushed out again, mission accomplished!

Hugh gave a sigh of relief and smiled at Dot. Dot smiled back, but said "I better go home then", somewhat disappointed that the event was all over.

Hugh walked her to the door, thankfully the rain had stopped. "Thank you for bringing those biscuits in" he said. "They'll be a big hit with the lads"

Dot chuckled. "And you better get inside before they are all gone!" Hugh joined in her laughter, and then lent in to kiss her cheek. "Better go. Love you" he said and he rushed off.

Dot smiled after him, her hand on her cheek where he had kissed her. "Love you too" she whispered to the vacant air.

Inspector Robinson returned to his office later that day, feeling decidedly damp and grumpy after traipsing around in the rain. He placed his hat on the hat stand and shook his coat before hanging it up. It was only when he sat at his desk that he noticed the small box on it. Jack approached it cautiously. It was unusual for plain cardboard items to appear on his desk inexplicably! He gave it a poke, and a shake.

Deciding that the parcel was harmless, he pulled the sting and opened the box. Inside were a dozen gingersnap biscuits, round and a dark golden colour. He inhaled the scent, taking in the smell and appreciating the effort someone had put into the biscuits. Just looking at the biscuits lifted his day, he liked the fact that someone had chosen to give him this simple gift.

Jack then noticed the small note inside. He unfolded it and read "To Inspector Robinson, from the Fisher Household", in decidedly school girl hand writing. He broke into a smile and reached for his biscuit tin.


	2. A Telephone Conversation

A Telephone Conversation

The telephone in the foyer of the fisher household rang. As per his duties, Mr Butler answered it.

Mr Butler: Miss Fisher's residence.

Jack: Good afternoon Mr Butler, this is Jack Robinson.

Mr Butler: Good afternoon Inspector. I am afraid to say that Miss Fisher is currently not at home.

Jack: Oh.

Mr Butler: That is to say, she is not in the house at the present time.

Jack: Oh. (pause) Well, thank you Mr Butler, but I actually wanted to thank the household for the Gingersnap biscuits I found on my desk yesterday.

Mr Butler: Ah, So you received the baked goods in their entirety then?

Jack: Yes, well, I think so. The box seemed intact when I opened it. Could you please pass on my thanks to those involved? Most likely Miss Williams and Jane.

Mr Butler: (Laughing) Yes. Jane was involved.

Jack: I was wondering what inspired such a tasteful gift.

Mr Butler: I think Inspector…, that there was a request from Constable Collins… for the lads at the station.

Jack: Then I have to thank you on behalf of the station lads also.

Mr Butler: Of course Inspector, but I think it was inspired when Hugh was assisting with the baking.

Jack: He was?

Mr Butler: Assistance of the tasting variety.

Jack: (Laughing) Thanks again Mr Butler, they were much appreciated as my house keeper is not baking at the present. Please pass on my regards to the household.

Mr Butler: Very good Inspector.

They said their goodbyes and Jack rang off. For some reason he could not explain, Jack was mildly annoyed that he did not get to speak to Miss Fisher.


	3. The Subtlety of Shortbread

The Subtlety of Shortbread

Phryne put down her teacup and sighed. Looking out her parlour window, all she could see was rain. More rain. Rain on a Friday inevitably meant rain on the week end. More of Melbourne's winter was on its way.

Phryne had entertained herself during the week. She had attended an organ recital at the town hall, a lecture about the progress of Women's Suffrage in other parts of the world, even lunched with Aunt Prudence. But there had been no sleuthing to challenge her recently. No cases needing her attention, no wandering husbands, missing jewels, disappearing servants or even a lost dog.

Of course this meant that she had no reason to talk with the enigma that was Jack Robinson. Not that she needed a reason to talk to him; it was that she preferred to have a reason. A murder was a perfect reason to spend time with him, even if it was just to exchange theories, bounce ideas off, banter a little and even deliberately test his patience. But she was not intending to go out and murder someone just to see the Detective Inspector!

Phryne took her tea tray into the kitchen. Dot was cooking something that looked delightful. Mr Butler was sitting at the table and he stood on her entrance.

"Do sit down Mr B." said Phryne, "You can enjoy your cup of tea, and I am not going anywhere anytime soon!" She paused, "Anything exciting in the racing form" ask asked viewing the paper upside down.

"I only read it for the articles" replied Mr Butler with a straight face.

"Of course" said Phryne, "Cooking again Dot?"

"Shortbread" replied Dot, "A special request"

"For Hugh"

"Yes. And he wants to pick them up this afternoon, so can take them into the station tomorrow for the Saturday shift."

"Since when have you been supplying the City South Constabulary with biscuits?" asked Phryne

Dot paused and brushed a lock of hair off her forehead with a flowery hand. "Well Miss, It started a couple of weeks ago with the gingersnaps I made. You know there Hugh's favourite."

Phryne nodded

So, the other lads decided to have a little completion and apparently Sargent Green's wife made Anzac biscuits, but the Inspector said they remained him too much of the war.

Phryne gathered this would be a long explanation.

"Then Constable Giamatti bought in his mother's Italian biscuits; the ones with nuts, like stale flat bread but sweeter"

"Biscotti Dot"

"Yes, Biscutti. However, Hugh thinks that my shortbread will top the lot.

"I know your biscuits are the best, but I hope you don't end up cooking for them endlessly and ignoring all your other duties." Phryne paused "Is anyone else participating? There are more than three men in the station. Doesn't the Inspector have someone who makes him biscuits?"

"Well that's the thing" replied Dot. "Apparently the Inspector is in favour of the biscuit competition, which is unusual because Hugh says he keeps a stash of biscuits in his office, so it is either a real cooking competition, or his housekeeper is not baking him any more biscuits or she's away on a holiday! It's a bit of a mystery really!"

"More like a total ruse for more food on a cold day more like it!" stated Phryne, "but I remain a sceptic enough that there could be a case of an absent housekeeper!"

"I'm sorry Miss" said Dot, again pushing back more hair, "did you want to go out sleuthing in the Hispano this afternoon. I can always make these later. Hugh can wait for them."

At this point Mr Butler intervened. "I'm sorry Dot; Hugh called earlier while you were up making beds. He's been asked to work late and he does not think he will be able to get here in a reasonable time before nightfall. Then it will be too late for him to get here and then home in the dark on public transport

"Oh Dear" said Dot, looking at her work bench.

"Not to worry Dot" said Phryne, "I have no plans for the rest of the day. Why don't we waltz down to the City South Police Station? You can take your award winning shortbread to the constabulary men and I will investigate the mystery of the Inspectors apparent lack of baked delights. We can be back before Jane comes home from school.

At that, Phryne literally waltzed from the room.

Dot smiled as her employer left the room. Mr Butler resumed his form guide but did make the comment; "Very subtle Dot!"


	4. A Delivery, A Conspiracy and An Invitati

A Delivery, a Conspiracy and an Invitation!

Jack Robinson was sitting at his desk, working his way through a mountain of overdue paperwork. He had spent a large portion of the week at another station, "consulting" on a murder there. He felt that "Everything" back in City South Station had been left for his return. On a raining Friday afternoon, he was hoping that the phone would not ring in another murder!

He could hear the general noise of the station, with men calling out to each other. The telephone did ring (but no-one called out for Jack, thankfully). There was slamming of doors, the chink of tea cups, and the stomping of boots.

He heard the front door slam, followed by feminine laughter. He paused, his pen in the air. He recognised that laugh, and he knew afternoon was about to be disrupted. A waft of French perfume announced the arrival of the elegantly and warmly wrapped Miss Fisher, who lit up his office with her sweeping entrance!

Phryne plonked herself down on his desk, on top of his papers, before he could protest.

"Good Afternoon Miss Fisher" was all he could manage!

"Hello Jack" breezed Phryne, "Fancy some shortbread?" She dropped a familiar sized box on top of the report he was previously struggling through, smudging the inky scrawl. The small box and its contents were suddenly was insignificant compared to her disturbing perch on his work.

Jack paused before responding. Sometimes he liked to keep her waiting.

"Shortbread" he stated, "Miss Fisher, is there any reason why I should be so favoured with more biscuit treats from the Fisher household? Surely Collins can't be wanting more time off?"

"Time off" queried Phryne, "As if I would stoop so low to attempt to bribe a senior policeman for a constable who is no relation by blood or family, to get more time off? No, Jack, I am here for another purpose of nobler and more nutritious reasons!

Jack remained silent; he wanted a full explanation before he replied.

"I was lead to believe" said Phryne, rolling her eyes at his lack of response, "That there was an unofficial cooking challenge and that a certain senior opinion was the subject to financial gains within the ranks! As you know, Dot takes her cooking very seriously and would love her contribution to be … award winning?" Phryne smiled coquettishly and battered her lashes!

"And who in the Fisher household would be hoping to increase their regular income with favourable opinion?" asked Jack. He had seen the open form guide complete with pencil marks on the kitchen table in the Fisher household.

Phyrne smiled. "It's certainly not myself" she reassured him, "I'm merely the delivery boy..girl..lady!" Another smile.

Jack had to laugh. Phryne lit up his office in more ways than one!

"Well" he said, "It does appear that for some reason an informal competition has occurred. I appear to have some sway in the result, as I seem to get my own separate supply of the goods, bound and labelled." He grinned, "I was flattered, but now I am suspicious. I thought all the lads were vying for reduced hours, and I would be left with no staff. But now that you mention wagers, I may have to nip this in the bud!"

"I didn't say the wagers were in the station" murmured Phryne.

"But it was worth your while to come down here and retain your favourite spot as a desk ornament, while you just "happen" to be delivering the latest entry!"

"It was raining, and I have no cases to investigate! "charmed Phryne, sure that she had now disarmed him, "So I came to conduct my own investigation."

Jack's eyebrows rose questioningly.

"I heard" said Phyrne conspiratorially, "That a certain housekeeper has ceased her cooking duties, may have even gone awol." She paused, "Is this a mystery that needs investigating?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Not at all Miss Fisher" he said formally, "My housekeeper has merely taken a few days to visit her family. She is quite entitled to do so, as our arrangement is quite casual and part time. We have a working agreement as neighbours."

"She's your neighbour?"

"Mrs Henderson and her husband live in the same street as me and we have an arrangement that has suited us all for some time. There is no mystery; I am merely an independent man reliving my bachelor days, for a short time".

"Really!" Phryne gave Jack an intense look, which Jack returned. He was not giving her any more information than necessary.

"Meals?" asked Phryne

"I can cook" returned Jack

"Washing"

"I can boil a copper"

"Cleaning"

"It can wait!"

Phryne cast a critical eye over Jacks clothes. Unable to find any obvious fault, she removed herself from his desk.

"Never the less" said Phryne gravelly, "I insist you come to dinner tonight!"

"Not tonight I am afraid" said Jack. "I really want to finish all this pile of paperwork, and I keep going and work late, I will manage to get on top of it, before the week end."

"Tomorrow night then. I know you try to have Saturdays off duty."

"Indeed I do, Miss Fisher, and if no murders occur, I would be very happy to dine with you tomorrow night"

"Excellent! I will inform Mr Butler, who will probably adjust the menu in you favour, although he will never admit it to me. Shall we say eight o'clock?"

"Eight O'clock would be very nice, thank you Miss Fisher" Jack was relaxing a little.

Phryne swept from the room. Jack could hear her calling out to Dot who was undoubtedly distracting Collins somewhere in the building.

Jack sighed, a mountain of paper work in front of him, and a cold house with no dinner to go home to. Tomorrow, he thought, ignoring the ink stain on his cuff, he really must get on top of his domestic duties! He half hoped there would be a murder to distract him.


	5. The house that jack bu

5. The House that Jack Built.

On Saturday morning, Jack Robinson surveyed his home. It really did need cleaning.

He sighed. He could cook his own meals; he could survive on breakfast twice a day. He had some winter vegetables in the back garden, but the lettuce seemed to have shot.

Simple washing was achievable, although a whole weeks' worth was a big effort. But ironing! Not to mention starching collars. Jack hated starched collars any way. The advent of ready-made shirts with attached collars was a single man's heaven!

However, he could not iron his shirts because he no longer had an iron. When he and Rosie had the combustion stove converted to gas, the old irons of his childhood that heated on the stove, were only useful as door stops! They had not bought an electric iron, as Mrs Henderson had always taken in their washing. Rosie had always hated housework, and felt that it was beneath her. She had grown up with staff in her father's house-hold. It had been a bitter disappointment to her that Jack could not afford live in help. A washing lady and an evening cook had starched his salary a little too far!

Jack sighed again and went to light the gas beneath the old washing copper in the laundry off the back verandah. Washing clothes he could do. Washing sheets and table linens was beyond him, especially with the rain. Just getting shirts and underclothes dried today would be a problem. Thankfully he had lit the sitting room fire. Clothes draped across the fire guard may be inelegant, but at least they would dry. Providing he didn't run out of fire wood which was low too. At least he had conserved firewood by not having the fire going during the week.

He had forgone his usual Saturday morning bike ride with Greg Bryson, the Police Prosecutor. They had struck up a friendship over the years of Jack getting the criminals to court, and Greg putting them in jail! Their usual ride was through the back streets of Richmond, along the Yarra River to Kew, where the Bryson family lived, and then followed the river road through Abbotsford. It was raining again anyway. Jack settled down to his domestic chores.

Jack and Rosie had bought the house after Jack's return from the war. Jack had secured a reduced deposit due to his status as a returned veteran. Rosie's father had "helped" with the remaining costs. It was a double fronted brick house with two bedrooms in Richmond. It was grander than the one Jack had grown up in. They had planned to enclose one side of the back verandah as an extra bedroom "when the time came". But that time had never come.

When Rosie had "left" the marriage, she has essentially rescinded her rights to the house, especially as it could be argued that the house had not been part of her dowry or "bought" for them by her father. It was Jacks saving grace that his veteran status on purchase had meant the house stayed in his hands. Rosie had returned to the grander comforts of her father's house anyway, and then planned to live with the well-off Sidney Fletcher.

Australian Law also no longer required Jack to "be seen" with another woman, although it did made the divorce more difficult and drawn out. Rosie, in return had not made a formal financial demands on Jack, and the court did not make this an issue. Still Jack had let Rosie take the "nice" things from the house and half their joint bank account. Hence the house had some-what "Spartan" look.

Bill and Mavis Henderson had been his lifer savers. One week after his enforced bachelorhood has started; Mrs Henderson had decided that she should change her role from his washer woman to his housekeeper. Jack, numb from Rosie's departure, had let her. Many times he had thanked her fore thought.

Mavis and Bill Henderson lived two doors down the road from Jack. Every morning, except Sunday, Mavis came over, cleared up his breakfast dishes and kitchen and did some light housework. Twice a week she took his washing or linens home, and returned them clean and pressed the next day.

Every evening, she cooked a meal for herself, Bill and Jack. Bill would bring over Jacks dinner under a covered plate. If Jack was home, he had dinner. If he was not at home, Bill left the meal in the oven turned on low. In winter he would light the living room fire. At 8 o'clock, Bill would look out his front door. If Jack was not home (no car or lights on), Bill would come over and turn the oven off and leave the front light on. If Jack got home late, he could eat his dinner warm, lukewarm, cold or not at all. It was an arrangement that suited them all well.

Jack stirred the copper, his clothes bubbling in soap. The milkman came twice a week, as did the baker. Bill delivered fire wood and supplied eggs from his own hens. Jack was out of just about everything else he could think of. He would have to go to the grocers next.

He hoped Mavis and Bill would be home soon. She had said that they would be away a week, but it had become three. He had asked the other neighbours, but none of them had heard from the Henderson's. They all implied that as a policeman, he could do something about it!

Bill and Mavis had gone to Geelong to see their newest grandchild. Jack decided that on Monday he would make some discreet inquires. Not wanting to deliberately appear to using his position to obtain information about law abiding families, he hoped just a few telephone calls could help in an unofficial capacity.

In the meantime, he needed a clean shirt for dinner!


	6. How many elephants can you fit in a room

How many elephants can you fit in a room?

The front door slammed just a little too hard and Miss Fisher's footsteps were stomping upstairs just a little too loudly. She did not stop to say good night!

Mr Butler sighed as he cleared away the last of the dinner things. The evening had not been the normally pleasant and enjoyable evening of previous sojourns. In fact, the evening had not started well, and had ended worse. Mr Butler thought he had never seen these two people who usually bantered and charmed, ever reach this level of silence before!

He thought that he heard the statement "I don't want to discuss it!" on more than one occasion, so obviously, there was more than one bone of contention. At one point they were both sitting in silence, staring at their plates. It was unlike Miss Fisher to be lost for words!

Firstly, Miss Fisher had spent the last part of the afternoon having a "mother/daughter" chat with Jane. Mr Butler remembered the time Jane had got suspended from school for "answering back", and "showing aggressive behaviour" (She had actually had been retaliating at some bullies on behalf of a victimised classmate), but this time it was personal and Jane had been in tears. She had sobbed on Dot's shoulder, who passed her to Miss Fisher, with the look that plainly said "You're the mother; deal with your daughter!"

Apparently, Jane's friend Catherine, who came from a very conservative household, had told Jane that "Miss Fisher could not be a "proper" mother, as she was a "Miss". Any adult could see that this was a child's misunderstanding of a situation, limited by her knowledge of the world and the protected home she came from.

But this upset Jane because she was protective about having a "real" mother, who was in an institution. Miss Fisher was also stewing on the knowledge that Jane's mother was still foremost in Jane's mind, and that the lady in question was unable to sign the papers for Miss Fisher to progress to adopting Jane.

Thankfully Inspector Robinson had been a witness when Jane's mother asked Miss Fisher to take care of Jane. He had seen Jane come into Miss Fisher's house, and saw her blossom in her care. If called on by the Welfare agency, the Inspector could vouch that Jane was better remaining with Miss Fisher. Mr Butler thought so too, but naturally, his opinion would not be called for.

Thus Miss Fisher had been late in preparing for the evening; her usual bath and relaxing drink. She liked to make her guests wait, so she could make an entrance. The Inspector had to wait longer than usual.

Mr Butler suspected the evening would be hard work when he let the Inspector in. Inspector Robinson was not wearing his usual suit, but trousers, tie, knitted vest and sports coat. However, it was Saturday, and he had been off duty and naturally in casual attire. Mr Butler helped the Inspector out of his coat. He recognised an unironed shirt and a knitted vest that could cover a multitude of sins! Mr Butler thought he looked weary and wondered if the Inspector would have preferred a beer, a paper by a fire and an early night rather than an elegant dinner!

Miss Fisher chose to open with this; usually she charmed her guests before she tackled the issue of the day. The conversation with Jane had clearly un-nerved her and Mr Butler suspect there had been more than one relaxing drink upstairs!

"Didn't you feel the need to dress up Jack?"

The Inspector raised an eyebrow. "I was unaware that this evening was formal dress. Are you expecting company other than myself?"

"Only you Jack! I 'm glad you feel relaxed enough to feel you can dress down for dinner. Or is this an indication of your domestic situation?"

"My "domestic situation" as you put it, is quite satisfactory, thank you Miss Fisher. I'm an old solider, I can cope quite well on my own for a few days. It was a lot worse in the trenches!"

"Trenches didn't have elegant dinners with all the trimmings!"

"Well, some of the officers had valets, wine and candlelight. As I was an enlisted man, I did I am sure tin walls and dirt floors would hardly compare with your elegant parlour. However I'll be on my guard just in case someone tries to bayonet me!"

Mr Butler thought this banter was a little more barbed than is should have been. Clearly the Inspector was feeling somewhat vulnerable about his situation at home.

"Let's not talk about it then" said Miss Fisher wisely dropping the subject.

Knowing that this was an opportune time, Mr Butler appeared with a tray of cocktails.

"Oh drinks" said Miss Fisher "Thank you Mr Butler, your timing is physic!" Mr Butler smiled. Thin walls were the secret to servant's ability to be physic!

Mr Butler could hear Miss Fisher and the Inspector managing to chat about inconsequential matters, taking care not to talk about the Inspectors domestic situation until dinner was announced. As they moved to the table the Inspector thoughtlessly upset the calm.

"Jane's not joining us for dinner?"

"No" said Miss Fisher sharply. "She's not of an age to eat with guests. She eats in the kitchen with Dot!"

"I'm sorry Miss Fisher; I thought she ate with you here in the dining room?"

"When there is just the two of us, yes she does. But not when I am entertaining".

"I take it I am just here for your amusement then!"

"I am not sure what you are implying! You are here as my guest, Jack."

"A guest that is not suitable to converse with other members of the household!"

A steady look equalled between them and a short silence ensured. Mr Butler made as much noise as he could when he bought in the soup. Very little was said during the soup course. The Inspector finished his with enthusiasm. Mr Butler made a note to give him a generous helping of the main meal. He stood by; ready to remove the soup bowls.

"You appear hungry!" stated Miss Fisher trying to re-start the conversation.

"Yes, busy day" responded the Inspector, apparently not wishing to elaborate.

"Did you go for your bike ride with Greg Bryson today?" enquired Miss Fisher.

"Er…No. It was raining and I had those "domestic matters" to attend to".

"Which are obviously not for discussion" murmured Miss Fisher, "So Jack, let's talk about something else! Let's talk about your knitted vest. Someone obviously had to knit it for you!"

The Inspector sighed. "If you promise not to talk about my current situation, I will tell you that my house keeper, Mrs Henderson knitted it for me. Apparently she knitted a similar one for her husband Bill, but mine is smaller and has a lot less holes." He smiled, trying to improve the mood.

Miss Fisher was like a dog with a bone. "I appreciate that Mrs Henderson applies herself to the domestic crafts, and that her husband is dutifully attired, but if Mrs Henderson is the domestic type, why is she so neglectful of her duties?"

The Inspector closed his eyes. "Please Miss Fisher, let the subject go! If you must know, Mavis and Bill Henderson live two doors away, Bill is a Boer War Veteran, Mavis does for me, and Bill drives the firewood delivery van for North Richmond. Bill keeps hens and supplies eggs to the street. They have gone to Geelong to see their latest grandchild and will return at some stage. Mavis knows I rely on her and have we have done so for years."

"We?"

"She did for us from when we bought the house. Rosie hated housework!"

There was a silence. He had thoughtlessly mentioned Rosie!

Mr Butler thought it a good time to bring in the main meal.

"Delightful, Mr Butler" said the Inspector, trying to lift the silence, "What are we having tonight?"

Mr Butler was hired for his Cordon Bleu skills, so he replied "Its correct name is "Coq au Vin"". The Inspector smiled but Miss Fisher frowned. Mr Butler felt a traitor's pang. "Coq au Vin" was a beautiful dish that he could prepare. But what he presented was more in the line of "Chicken in Wine sauce", a more anglicised version of Coq au Vin! Miss Fisher normally didn't notice if he played "favourites", but tonight she obviously did! Either that or the lack of harmony at the table was bothering her.

Mr Butler presented the wine bottle for her approval.

"Thank you Mr Butler" said Miss Fisher without even looking at it. He poured the wine and left the room for the safety of the kitchen.

However, the conversation went downhill.

"What are the household doing tonight?" started the Inspector politely.

"Well, As Hugh is working; Dot is at home, probably spending time with a despondent Jane."

"Despondent because…?"

Miss Fisher glared at him, "It certainly had nothing to do with eating dinner in the dining room!" she stated." As the Inspector did not respond, she elaborated with a sigh, "Jane had a falling out today with one of her friends – Catherine."

"Can I ask what the spat was over?" asked Inspector Robinson for what reason he knew not.

Miss Fisher paused "It was over the nature of households" she finally gave "Mainly ours"

"Ah!" said the Inspector, knowing that to respond would invite trouble.

"Some of her friends have such limited lives!" said Miss Fisher, perhaps a little cattily.

"Only limited by the good citizens of Melbourne" replied the Inspector, deliberately provoking.

"Are you implying that I am not a good citizen of Melbourne?" asked Miss Fisher icily

Inspector Robinson looked at Miss Fisher: it appeared that several responses did come to his mind, but he followed with, "Did you want to talk about the "Nature" of your household?"

There was a silence. Miss Fisher broke it. "Well, you don't want to discuss your situation, and I don't want to discuss my household, so why don't we talk about the City South Station biscuit ratings!"

"Good idea" the Inspector appeared glad to change the subject. "The whole business is getting a little tedious, to be truthful. Apparently my word is worth a wager! I may have to rein the whole competition in before too much money changes hands or cooking reputations fall"! He smiled, trying to lift the tone, "Although I did have my favourites, but I could not be seen as showing favouritism to anyone in particular, even if a certain household tried to sway me with notes!"

"Who sent you a note?" demanded Miss Fisher, guessing the household from whence the note came.

Inspector Robinson was taken back. "Why Jane", he said, not expecting her response.

"What did she say?"

"The note simply said "To Inspector Robinson, from the Fisher Household!"

Miss Fisher relaxed a little but said, "It's not appropriate for Jane to be sending you notes"

"I seriously think that she had any intentions" said the Inspector. "It was a harmless message"

"Never the less, I will speak to her about her inappropriate actions"

"I reiterate it was not a letter of serious, malicious or suggestive intent. And I also suggest you wait until tomorrow. She's probably had enough anguish today if she has fallen out with a friend."

"Jane's issues with Catherine have nothing to do with you" retorted Miss Fisher.

"I didn't say they did! I just feel a bit sorry for her because she wrote a simple note and you're intending to take her to town for it!"

"Why are you so concerned about Jane?"

"Because you are obviously over-reacting! It was an innocent note with a box of biscuits. Surely she wrote it to me as a friend of the household, which I thought I was. After all, I am not one of your "gentleman friends!""

Miss Fisher was speechless!

At that point Mr Butler cleared the plates. Neither of them had finished dinner.

"I am sorry Miss Fisher: that was a low blow" apologised Inspector Robinson.

Miss Fisher unfroze. "I'll thank you not to discuss such matters; they are not your concern. And I would also like it if we don't discuss Jane!"

"Discussion or not, Jane is a child and innocent in the matters of feminine wiles that you apparently accuse her of! The same wiles you display so well!"

"What are you saying?"

"Well Jane may have revealed to her friend Catherine that she lives in a house with a spinster foster mother who has a string of paramours!" He was being deliberately blunt.

Miss Fisher was both white and silent.

Mr Butler thought it an honest comment, but unbecoming of the gentleman, that the Inspector was.

The said Inspector closed his eyes.

Mr Butler sensed an explosion or banishment-with no return.

Miss Fisher showed control. "Now you're the one over reacting!"

"Again a low blow, my apologies!"

Mr Butler bought in dessert, but there was silence at the table.

Miss Fisher tried to maintain the upper hand "Jane would never have written the note if you hadn't encouraged the baking competition!"

"I considered it some harmless fun within the station until you turned up on my desk, vying for special consideration for your household!"

"So now we're back the "nature" of my household are we? We can discuss that, but not your lack of one!"

"Perhaps I should go, I am very tired and neither of us is at our best." Inspector Robinson stood up and Miss Fisher followed. Mr Butler hurried to get the Inspector's coat.

At the door, the Inspector turned, "A very nice dinner thank you, Mr Butler" he said, "Miss Fisher, thank you for a pleasant evening. …" he paused as if waiting for a response from her, but none came, so he left.


	7. The fallout and the follow on

The fallout and the follow on

By Sunday, Hugh spoke with Dot on the telephone.

"I don't know what happened on the week-end, but the Inspector is really ropeable!"

….

By Monday, Phryne had drunk rather too much scotch, snapped at Dot, driven the car too fast and kept away from the kitchen and its usual inhabitants! She had also dined alone.

Finally, she sat down with Mac.

"It's Jack" started Phryne.

"What now?" asked Mac, rolling her eyes.

"Jack said I have a string of "gentlemen friends!"

"You do!"

"He said his housekeeper was none of my business"

"This is correct!"

"He implied I was a bad influence on Jane"

"Compared to whom?"

"Jack said I was over reacting, when I said Jane could not write him a note in a box of biscuits!"

"I have no idea what that sentence even means!"

"Jane says that Catherine says that I can't be proper mother!"

Mac regarded Phryne. Phryne usually didn't care what other people thought of her, but this involved Jane. This was new to Phryne and Mac sensed that this issue was the one that hurt most.

Mac knew that Jack and Phryne could not remain in self-appointed coventry for long, that Phryne's "gentlemen friends" were less frequent of late and Phryne always strayed in other people's business!

"Well Phryne" said Mac, "I think you should consider what you do best and improve where you think improvement is due!

Phryne thought about this statement after Mac had left. What did she need to improve? Ignoring the obvious, Phryne decided that what she needed to improve was the Inspector's domestic situation!

She called in the troops!


	8. Men at Work

8. Men at work

Bert slowly drove down the street in Richmond.

"I don't know about this Bert" said Cec.

"It's what Miss Fisher wants" replied Bert

"Still, this is the Inspectors business" murmured Cec, who had a more healthy regard for the law than his mate.

"We're not going into the Inspectors house, we're only finding the neighbours" said Bert still driving. "Look, there's his house".

They had indeed identified the correct house.

"Now for the neighbours, two doors down" said Bert driving past. "We'll park around the corner."

"Don't park too far away, I have to carry this blasted fruit basket" grumbled Cec.

"Two doors down" gave several possibilities including both sides of the street. Some warehouses eliminated one possibility, and another was a house that was obviously derelict.

"Probably a neat house, as she's a domestic type" said Bert, and he pointed to a neat brick cottage with a tidy front and chair on the tiny porch. He lead the way, as Cec followed, carrying the fruit basket.

The stepped onto the porch of the identified house and put their plan into action. Bert started banging on the front door, while Cec lent against the verandah post and watched the street. The banging on the door elicited no response, but they expected that. Eventually Bert called out," Mrs Henderson, are you home?"

Cec saw a lace curtain twitch in a window across the street.

"Going" was all he said, and left the porch. Bert grunted in reply. Banging on doors was hard work, but he preferred that to carrying a basket of fruit like a grocer!

Cec crossed the road to a cottage that had seen better days, taking the fruit basket with him. He knocked on the door and a tiny elderly lady answered.

"Good Morning Missus", said Cec, removing his cap, "My name's Cec and I'm looking for Bill and Mavis Henderson."

"They're not home" replied the elderly lady.

"That's no good" sad Cec, "You see Missus, I've got this basket of fruit for them, they've won it in a competition and I've got to deliver it to them, today, or my boss will go crook at me."

"Basket of fruit you say", the door opened a little wider.

"Yair, and the fruit will go off soon, and I'll be in trouble if I took it back. My boss would get real cross, he would!"

"The Henderson's have gone to Geelong to see the family and a new baby"

"That's nice for them, but I've got to give this fruit to someone!"

"I suppose I could look after it for them" the lady said." I could keep it until they return."

"That would be grand Missus, and then I can say that some-one got the basket"

The door opened a little and she held out her hand for the basket.

"It's pretty heavy" said Cec, "I'd better bring it in for you."

The door fully opened and let him in.

Bert's banging on the Henderson's front door finally got a response from the house next door, third down from the Inspectors. A big burly bloke came out. "What the hell are you doing, raising all that ruckus like that. Can't you see that no one's home!"

Bert eyed the man. He was big burly, hairy and tattooed.

Bert ducked his head. "Sorry Comrade, I was trying to find me old mate Bill."

"Well, he's not at home. He and the Missus have headed off to Geelong for family or something"

"Sorry to hear that, because I've got a bit of a windfall for old Bill. A result of a flutter. "

"Didn't think Bill was a betting man!"

"I think it might have been a collection,...on account of having another grand kid" covered Bert. "I think we got Five quid in all. You know, to wet the baby's head!"

"Five Quid you say" said the burly bloke.

"In my hand" replied Bert.

The neighbour suddenly became more friendly. Bert being such a good judge of character suggested that he and the burly man,"Call me Frank" wet the baby's head in Bills absence, and they repaired to the local pub.

Cec eventually found them there some hours later. Bert was awash with beer, having drunk their way through most of the five pounds. Cec having spent the morning with "the crazy cat lady" was only too happy to join them!


	9. Apologies all Around

9. Apologies all around

It was late afternoon on Tuesday when Mr Butler admitted Inspector Robinson to Prynne's house.

"May I take your coat and hat?" asked Mr Butler.

"No, no need, I'm not staying long" replied Jack.

Mr Butler showed Jack to the parlour and went upstairs to get Phryne. Jane was doing her homework at the kitchen table. Seeing Dot's back turned to tend to the stove, Jane slipped away from the table and went into the parlour.

"Hello Inspector Robinson" she said shyly. She was still a little in awe of him.

"Good afternoon Jane", Jack smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good thanks" said Jane, "I've just topped the class in history!"

"Congratulations Jane. Miss Fisher will be very pleased!"

"Yes, and Aunt Prudence is pleased too!"

"Is all going well at school? Apart from your history, which is obviously excellent!"

"Oh Yes, I enjoy school. It has a wizard library, and most of the teachers are nice."

"And the girls, do you get on with them?"

"Most of them! There are a couple of stuck up toffs, but my best friend is Catherine. She's a nice girl"

"That's good to hear." Jack was glad that any school girl issues seem to be resolved.

"Her father's a bit of a fudddy-duddy! I think they think I'm a bit wild for Catherine!"

"Well, we don't really know what they think" said Jack, not wanting to reveal anymore.

Thankfully Phryne entered the room. "Good Afternoon Inspector" she said coolly. She eyed Jane. "Don't you have home work to finish?"

"Yes Miss" said Jane, "Goodbye Inspector"

"Goodbye Jane"

There was a silence after Jane left the room. Jack cleared his throat. "Miss Fisher, I am here to apologise for my appalling behaviour on Saturday night. It was unbecoming of me as a gentlemen and a friend."

There was another silence.

"Thank you Jack" said Phyrne, "I know I pushed you too far with what was none of my business. And I understand that you have some concerns for Jane's welfare, as it was on your assurance I have her in the first place. I assure you that she is physically and morally safe in this house.

"As Jane has just told me how well she is doing at school, I know all those things to be true."

More silence.

"I berated myself all the way home for not speaking with more restraint!" said Jack.

Phryne chuckled. "I just drank too much scotch! And I talked to Mac." When Jack said nothing, Phryne continued "Mac agreed with you, so I guess I have two friends being honest with me!"

Jack gave a small smile. "It still doesn't mean that it was my place to say those things"

Phryne crossed the room and stood close to Jack. "I'm sorry too. I said some horrid things. Can we put this behind us?" She took his hand.

Jack enclosed her hand in both of his. There was nothing more to be said. However, Jack thought he heard a rustle at the door. When he looked up, there was no one there! He gently squeezed her hand, then separated them.

"Actually Jack, I was going to call in on you tomorrow at work. I know we could be civil in public!" Phryne said dramatically. "I have got hold of some information that may be of interest to you." She handed him a piece of paper.

Jack read "Mavis and Bill Henderson have a daughter Alice Pagett, now of West Geelong. Husband Dave Pagett is a labourer in Geelong. Had a baby girl in early June! "

Jack looked at Phryne. "How did you get this?" he asked?

"Usual way "smiled Phryne.

"Did this involve a certain two red raggers?"

"That would be telling!"

Jack gave her an exasperated look. "I have a good mind to reiterate all I said about other people's business!"

"And now that you've said that, I want you to find your housekeeper. You need her to come home!"

Jack put the paper in his pocket and took her hand again. "Thank you", he said.


	10. Finding Mavis

10. Finding Mavis

It was late on Friday, when Jack got the telephone call from West Geelong Police Station.

Before he had spoken to Phryne earlier in the week, he had called the main Geelong Station. He had spoken to the Senior Sergeant there and explained how he was looking for his housekeeper and husband who had not returned from the area. He did not have any further details on names or address of those they was visiting.

The Senior Sergeant had been sympathetic. "We can make a few discreet inquiries, but as they are not "Missing Persons", there is a limit to what we can do."

Jack agreed there was a limit, and as a result all the information they could find was that Mavis and Bill Henderson had not been arrested, in hospital, and were not staying in any hotel or boarding house in the Geelong area. Jack thanked the Senior Sergeant for his assistance.

The information Cec and Bert unearthed changed all that. Jack rang the station at West Geelong. On Friday, they returned his call with information.

"Inspector Robinson" said the voice on the phone, "This is Senior Sargent Appleby of the West Geelong Police Station".

"Ah, Sargent Appleby, Thank you for getting back to me" said Jack

"Not a problem, Inspector, not a problem. Now, as it turns out, we have a young constable here, young Walsh. Now he's married to a cousin of the Pagetts, and they all live in West Geelong and Hamlyn Heights area. Young Walsh and wife included!"

"Of course" said Jack politely.

"So, when I mentioned these missing Hendersons to the lads, young Walsh twigged that he may have met them at a recent bubs church dunking! Either that or the do afterwards!"

"Yes, go on"

"Anyway, I gave the brief to Walsh to follow up and he went straight the source, to make sure he had the right family, if you follow me!"

"I am following you!"

"Well, Walsh spoke with old Bill, who immediately recognised your name and asked about you. Said how you relied on Mavis and so on! So we knew that we had the right Hendersons!"

"Yes"

"That's the good news! The bad news is that Mavis is pretty crook!"

"Oh dear!"

"Apparently she had some sort of fall, and she's lost feeling all down one side, can't talk. She's pretty bad. They had her in hospital for a week or so, but they don't think she'll recover, so they took her home. The family have all rallied 'round. As they do!"

"Yes, as they do!" echoed Jack, "So, she was in hospital?"

"Apparently so, but there was a mix up with the paper work and she was admitted as "Mavis Pagett""

"Well, that does sometimes happen" said Jack, and they agreed that this mix up did not change any outcome for Mavis. Jack thanked Senior Sergeant Appleby and asked that his thanks be passed on to Constable Welsh, and hung up.

Jack sighed. He had the address of the Pagett family, but they did not have the telephone on. He drummed his fingers on the desk. Tomorrow was Saturday, and murders permitting, he was free of work at the station. His weekly attack of his domestic duties could be done on Sunday instead of Saturday.

Decision made, he reached for the telephone. First he called Miss Fisher to tell her that Bert and Cec's findings had bought in results. Then he called Greg Bryson to cancel his bike ride, -yet again!


	11. Domestic Blitz

11. Domestic blitz

Jack left his house early on Saturday morning. Dressed in his casual week end attire of trousers, tie and sports coat, he walked down the street, with his overcoat over his arm. It could be raining at his destination. Because his journey was not work related, he left the station car that he usually drove at the police station. This indicated to the Senior Sergeant on duty that the Inspector really was unavailable and out of town for the day. The Inspector was catching the train to Geelong.

No-one watched the Inspector leave, but soon after he turned the corner to the tram stop, a big black taxi moved slowly into the Inspectors street. It stopped outside the Inspectors house and disgorged a number of people. A distinguished gentleman in servant's livery seemed to be in charge. He surveyed the scene and directed the unloading of the appliances and work items onto the porch. The two maids were directed to the porch, where they shivered in their coats.

Eventually the distinguished gentleman, who was of course, Mr Butler, and Bert went to visit "Frank" next door. Cec then went to visit the "crazy cat lady", but took along Alice, who was the second maid. Dot shivered on the Inspectors porch alone, standing vigil over all the items placed there.

Cec and Mr Butler remained on Franks doorstep, but had the earliest success in the procurement of keys. It appeared that Cec and Alice had less success, but more tea with the elderly lady across the road. The desired result was Frank leading Bert across to the Henderson's house, and the Bert emerging with a key to the Inspectors house. Frank apparently "Had to feed the chooks anyway!"

Mr Butler returned to Dot on the doorstep." I think we might manage this without any problem!" he said.

"I hope so" said Dot, "I just want to get inside and get warm."

"What did you tell Constable Collins?"

"I told Hugh that we were doing domestic work at another house as favour for Miss Fisher, and getting paid for it. Luckily he was working today, or I could not have been able to pull this one off!"

"Just as well that we convinced Miss Fisher to stay with Jane. I appreciate that she wanted to help, but your suggestion that she could go out to lunch with Jane was inspired. Miss Fisher and Jane would rather lunch out than lunch at home alone!"

"I think giving her the idea that anyone could clean, but only a mother could reassure a child in her time of distress was a master stroke, Mr B"

Bert arrived with the key to the Inspectors house in his hand. "All done, all legal, all good!" He handed the key to Mr Butler.

"Very good Mr Johnson! It would not look good if we had to break into a policeman's house to do a good deed!"

They all agreed on this.

Once inside, work began in earnest. Mr Butler surveyed the situation and allocated duties. Dot was to start the laundry, as this took the longest. Bert was to help Dot, while she waited for Alice to return with Cec. Mr Butler would manage the kitchen. Bert and Dot exchanged a look. No surprises there!

Bert filled the copper and lit the gas ring under it. Dot stripped the Inspectors bed of linen, collected towels and took them into the laundry. She delegated Bert to collect the Inspectors underclothes. Modesty prevailed that she did not want to handle her future husband's boss' underwear! She was not strictly a laundry maid.

Bert also returned with the Inspectors suit. Dot eyed it warily. It definitely needed attention, but as she was not a laundry maid, and they only had today to wash and dry everything, the suit would be a problem. She consulted Mr Butler. They agreed to steam the suit over the copper, and then press it. Bert managed the placement of the suit, while Dot stirred the washing.

Alice arrived as Bert was fitting the wringer to the centre of the concrete double wash basin. The wringer had been on a shelf, which indicated that the laundry was not often used. While Bert was doing this Alice and Dot, "surveyed" the house, pointing out all the fittings they found appealing when they finally had their own homes!

However, Alice stepped in to sweep and dust, stopping to help Dot put the sheets through the wringer. The day was cold and windy, but not raining, so they were able to put the sheets on the clothes line. They asked Bert to make sure the line was stable and wiped clean.

Cec finally arrived from his prolonged visit to the elderly lady across the street. "Poor old dear" he said, "No one to talk to!" Apparently, he'd had several cups of tea, causing him to visit the Inspector's outhouse at the bottom of the garden. He told Alice that the night man had been, but no-one had cleaned in there for some time. Alice sent him to chase away any spiders that may be lurking before she went down to do so. Alice and Dot agreed that working in big homes was hard work, but there was the attraction of modern conveniences, such as indoor toilets!

Bert intended to sneak out to the car to kip, with his cap over his eye, but Mr Butler had him and Cec remove the drip tray from under the ice chest, which was about to overflow and flood the kitchen.

Cec made up a fire in the sitting room fireplace and set up the clothes horse. Dot had initially placed across it some clean sheets. She wanted to air them before she re-made the bed. Alice helped her remake the bed after she had cleaned the bedrooms. Dot the started draping socks across the clothes horse and fire guard. Most of the washing was now done; Dot hoped all would be dry by the end of the day. By now, Dot was appreciating the Chinese laundry that managed Miss Fisher's washing.

After pre-made sandwiches for lunch in the now spotless kitchen, (and biscuits Dot made yesterday in the biscuit tin) Bert and Mr Butler drove off to obtain food for dinner. As the kitchen table was now free, Cec set up the ironing blanket across it and plugged in the electric iron. Dot tackled the ironing. Not everything was dry, but the damp shirts ironed nicely with a light starch to the collars and cuffs. (Mr Butler made an ideal starch mixture). Alice helped her iron the sheets.

By mid-afternoon, Bert took Dot and Cec back to St. Kilda, where Dot started dinner. Alice took over the ironing, re-doing some of the damp clothes and the suit. The suit was improved by its steaming and iron. Mr Butler started preparing the dinner in the kitchen, and the returned Bert sat in the Inspectors armchair in front of the fire, reading the paper.

"This is the life Alice" Bert said, "A fire, a paper, a missus and dinner cooking!" Bert and Cec lived in a boarding house.

"It's not your dinner, your fire, or your paper Bert, and thankfully I'm not your missus!"

"You'll be Cec's missus soon enough and it's his ironing you'll be doing!"

"Yes, One day I'll be Mrs Yates and we'll our own house! But right now I'm Alice the house maid, you're Bert Johnson: the wharfie, and we are both employed to get this house in order. I'm doing the ironing, but I think your next job is to fill the fire box with more firewood and help pack up the ironing things! Isn't that what you call a" fair division of labour?""

Bert grumbled something about "getting a quiet missus" but did as he was asked!

By late afternoon, everything that was achievable was done, although there were still a few towels drying in the bathroom. Bert took Alice to St. Kilda, leaving Mr Butler finishing the dinner preparations. Bert then returned and collected Mr Butler, who, after cooking all day, went home to a light meal prepared by Dot. Bert had one more trip to do before he returned to a late dinner in the St. Kilda kitchen.

But there was one person who was not eating Dot's meal in the St. Kilda kitchen. One person was left at the Inspectors house, waiting for the Inspector to come home!


	12. A drive home

12. A drive home

Inspector Robinson walked out of the main gate of Spencer Street Station. It was dark, cold and all he wanted to do was go home, even if it was to a cold, dark empty house. He heard a whistle, then "Hey Inspector!" Jack turned, some –one was waving at him. He recognised Bert.

"Hey Inspector", Bert called again and he hurried up to where Jack had halted. "I've come to drive you home."

"That's wonderful of you Mr Johnson; I can't tell you how much I would appreciate that."

"This way Inspector" said Bert, leading the way to the car. "You know, you should call me Bert. Mr Johnson was my father, at least that's what they told me!"

Jack chuckled. "Thank you Bert, and you should call me Jack, just about everyone does…except in an official capacity of course!"

"Of course" agreed Bert and he held the door open for Jack.

Jack sat back and closed his eyes. It had not been a happy trip to Geelong.

He had caught a taxi from the station to the address in West Geelong, where Bill and Mavis Henderson were staying. As soon as he was shown into the main room of the house, Bill had called out to him.

"Inspector, you've come all this way!"

"I was concerned about you both" said Jack, so I came to see if there was anything I could do."

Bill broke down, leaning on Jack's shoulder, "Oh Inspector" he sobbed, "We're going to lose her. She's drifting away, and I can't help her anymore!" A family member assisted Jack guide Bill to an arm chair. This appeared to have been an oft repeated scene.

Jack learnt from the family that Mavis was on her deathbed and the family were biding their time until the event occurred. There were numerous family members coming and going. They were all sad at Mavis' demise. She was obviously a loved matriarch.

Jack stayed and lunched with the family. Many came and went during the day. Bill was never without someone next to him. They were all very caring; women bought casseroles, men bought beer, and children ran in and out. Jack felt quite over whelmed.

He met Constable Wash, but for the life of him, he could not remember his face. He talked with many of the men about many things, football, politics, farming, and the weather. He was constantly offered beer or cups of tea! One of the men drove Jack to the station for the afternoon train. He offered to keep in touch through Constable Walsh, saying that it was likely that Bill would remain with them in Geelong for the time being!

Jack had dozed on the train home!

"There you go!"

"Jack opened his eyes. He realised Bert had pulled up beside his house and he must have dozed off in the car.

"Thanks" he mumbled and went to grasp the door handle. Then he stopped. There were lights on in his house. Someone was there! "What…?" was all he could manage.

"It's all right Jack." said Bert. "It's all good. Just go on in!"


	13. Friends, No Elephants

13. Friends without Elephants.

Jack opened his front door and walked into his hall. He could smell a delicious dinner cooking in the kitchen. Jack dropped his hat and coat on the hall stand. Bert's reassurances had prepared Jack, but he was still surprised to see Phryne sitting in his living room armchair with the newspaper strewn all around her.

"Hello Jack" was all she said.

Jack looked at her and sighed "Do I even want to know how you got in Miss Fisher or do I arrest you for breaking and entering?"

"It was all legal and above board Jack. Frank, from down the road, let us in. With a key!"

"And how did you charm that out of him?"

"I believe it involved beer and a good story. But I was not involved!"

"A pity I can't arrest you for witchcraft then!"

"And before you ask, I can tell you that Hugh Collins was also not involved. He was at work all day and knew nothing of us doing this.

"Us?"

"Well, I can't take all the credit!"

Jack looked around; he could see how clean and tidy the house was. He removed his jacket and loosened his tie, before dropping into the remaining armchair.

"I'm too tired to argue with you! So, Miss Fisher; to whom do we credit what?"

"Well, Dot did the laundry, Alice cleaned, Mr B cooked, Cec fetched and carried - he also pulled a few weeds from your vegie patch – and Bert, well, Bert drove everyone around and generally tried to keep out of works way!"

"It appears that your posse did everything?"

"Yes Jack, everything!"

"So I have everyone to thank for "everything" and I don't even know why!"

"I can tell you why Jack" said Phryne carefully. "You see I initiated this domestic event, because I wanted to apologise for my basically horrid behaviour last week end. And..also, you were right, I can't mind own business, I have to meddle, and so I chose to meddle in yours, because you are a friend, a very dear friend. Someone I care for. Someone I wanted to help in your hour of need."

"What made you think I was in my hour of need?"

"Now you're being ridiculous!" said Phryne in a voice he was much more used to!

"Phryne, even after all those harsh words we threw at each other, you came over and cleaned my house?"

"Yes, because those harsh words had truths behind them Jack, and sometimes the truth has to be said, even if it hurts! Although I didn't do any cleaning myself per se!"

"So all those who did clean my house, your household, even those red-raggers, why were they here?"

"Because when I asked them all who would come and help, they all said yes. I did pay them, but it was their choice to get involved. I did not cast any spells, just waved folding negotiables! Even Mr B said…" Phryne jumped up and ran into the kitchen.

"What are you doing Phryne?" called Jack, half out of chair.

"It's all right Jack, I just remembered something" Phryne returned to the sitting room. "Mr Butler said to turn on the vegetables as soon as you got home. Drink?"

"Mr Butler's not here?"

"No Jack, just me!" She handed Jack a glass of scotch, from a bottle he knew had not been there yesterday.

Jack laid his head back and shut his eyes, the glass in his hand. "Phyrne Fisher, you are a menace to society! Why did I let you out when I had you locked up last time?"

"If I recall, Dot and Hugh "sprung" me from your cells! But had I remained, I would have been a major disruption at the station! You would have had to put up with me all the time, not just occasionally, and I would not have been able to orchestrate events like this, when you go away for the day!"

She sat at the footstool by his chair

"I'll have to go away more often!" said Jack finally giving in "If it means coming home to a dinner, a scotch and a titled lady wearing an.. are you wearing Mrs Henderson's apron?"

"Yes" said Phryne. "I gather she is the size of Aunt Prudence!"

"Larger than life" smiled Jack into his scotch.

"Tell me how you went today, finding the Henderson's. Not that it's any of my business of course!" Jack sighed and told her about Mavis and Bill. "Not expected to recover" he finished glumly.

"I'm sorry to hear that" said Phryne, and she leant over and grasped his hand.

There was a silence of a companionable kind, which Jack broke when he said, "One day I will lock you up and throw away the key!"

"Can you wait until after I serve dinner? We'll eat at your dining table" was Prynne's response

Jack got up and surveyed the dining table. It was set with his basic linens and china.

"I haven't sat at this table since…"

"Since Rosie left?" asked Phryne walking in holding a tray with filled plates on it.

"Yes" said Jack. "I just use the kitchen table for me!"

"It's alright Jack, you can talk about her"

"Hmm" said Jack watching Phryne place the plates on the table. "Did you cook?"

"No, Mr Butler did, he just left me the vegetables and a list of instructions!"

"So, your staff cooked cleaned and then left you behind! Unchaperoned!"

"Yes, I've been abandoned. If I need help I'll call a… " Phryne looked at Jack, he did not look impressed. He'd probably heard that joke too many times! ".. on my trusty garter to get me out of trouble. Either that or my hatpin!" Jack chuckled at that. "Bert is coming to collect me later!" she said, "Unless you lock me up of course!"

"I still haven't ruled it out!"

As they sat down, Jack asked "Don't titled ladies usually take their apron off at dinner?"

"Usually yes, but the strings are so long, that I've wound them around more than once, and the bow has turned into a knot. I fear that I'm tied to this apron for life!" Jack laughed so much he thought he would choke, and Phryne poured him a glass of water.

As Jack turned his attention to his plate he asked "Can you cook?"

Phryne laughed. "My usual response would be that I can boil a kettle and make tea and toast. Truthfully, I can make a decent breakfast, but I admit to being out of touch with main meals."

"I can survive on breakfast twice a day" said Jack. They both laughed again.

"What would Mr Butler call this dish?" asked Jack

"Either Beef bourginone or beef casserole, depending on who he is serving it to! Don't tell Mr Butler that we both know he plays favourites with menus!"

"Were you here all day"? Asked Jack

"No, but everyone else was. I did not get here until it was all over. It was recommended to me that I should spend some family time with Jane. So I took her out for lunch. In fact, we met young Catherine, and took her out for lunch too!"

"Really! And how did that work out?"

"She's quite a sweet thing, of rather protective parents. I forget that Jane is not as naive as most girls her age."

"Jane had a very different start on life!" said Jack, and Phryne agreed.

Jack finished his meal and relaxed back in his chair. "That was excellent. Please give Mr B my compliments!"

"I will. Mr Butler is now having one of Dot's dinners, having cooked here and left."

"And what are your household doing tonight, with the Mistress of the house out, dining unchaperoned?" asked Jack knowing that the last time he asked this question it had led to disaster.

"If you must know," smiled Phryne, "Dot and Hugh will probably sit in a cosy corner of my parlour and Jane is under strict instructions not to interrupt them. So Jane and Mr B will be sitting at opposite sides of the kitchen table, with their favourite reading material!"

"So that's the form guide for Mr B and a history book for Jane."

"Almost right! Jane has taken to reading detective novels. She thinks that she has followed enough of our investigations, that she can scrutinize those novels for accuracy!"

They laughed again! Jack finally felt like he had come home.

Phryne stood up to clear the table. Jack stood also. "I should help you."

They carried the plates to the kitchen and left them on the bench.

"Mr Butler recommended fresh fruit for dessert" said Phryne, handing Jack two small plates and paring knives. "He said he recommended a "simple and clean" meal, but I think that he was afraid I would make your favourite custard better than he does!"

"Hence the fruit!" laughed Jack and he followed the bowl of fruit and Phryne the table.

Jack watched Phryne slice a peach into pieces, then lent over to spear one of the cut piece. He ate it off the knife, meeting Phryne's eyes challengingly!

"Some men are either lazy or have appalling manners!" said Phryne pointedly. There was more laughter.

Fruit devoured, Jack leaned across that table again, this time covering her hand. "I could get used to this Phryne!"

"Please don't" replied Phryne, "My reputation as a gad-about socialite would be ruined!"

Jack responded as she intended. "Of course, we can't have that!"

They carried the plates back into the kitchen when Phyrne asked the time. "I have to be ready to leave at half past eight" she said. "Just enough time to do the dishes!"

Jack only heard half that statement. "You're leaving?"

Phryne faced him. "Of course Jack!"

There was a pause and Jack covered "Of course you are, my apologies, I don't know what I was thinking!"

Phryne diverted the subject. "I think you were still considering locking me up! Wash or dry?"

"Pardon"

"That is not an answer, and therefore you forfeit the right to wash" said Phryne "Mainly because I don't know where to put things away!" Jack found himself with a drying towel in his hands!

They managed to wash the dishes without incident, although Jack left most of the dried dishes on the counter. "I'll put them away later" he promised, although he had no intention of doing so!

Finally Phryne said "I'm afraid our evening is about to end. I will have to ask you to help me out of this enormous cover-all. I think a boy scout could not have tied a better knot!"

Jack surveyed the knot in the small of her back. "What have you done?" he queried pulling at the strings, "How did you conjure the bow to get so tangled?"

They laughed as he fumbled with the knot and finally managed to release it. He pushed the strings around Phryne's waist, to un-wrap her from the humble garment. His laughter faded as he moved his hands from her waist, to her shoulders to help her remove the apron. They were standing very close. Phryne was silent as Jack ran his hand down her arm.

"How do you bewitch someone who has resisted so long?" he asked softly

Phryne turned to face him. "I just use a little feminie magic "she replied; peeling the apron off.

Jacks hands rested each side of her on the edge of the bench. Neither spoke, but Jack moved closer until there was no space between them. There was a moment, a small movement, and then there was banging on the front door! The spell was broken.

Jack rolled his eyes and stepped back.

"That would be my broomstick!" said Phyrne.

"Complete with gargoyle!" scowled Jack, his hands in his pockets.

Phryne did not answer, but collected her hat and coat from the kitchen chair. Jack silently waved her out of the kitchen and followed her into the front hall. Phryne halted, it was dark.

"I'll turn on the light" said Jack.

Phryne felt his hand on her arm as he went to brush past her, but he did not move toward the light switch. His hands moved to hold her and she lifted up her face to receive his kiss on her lips. It was soft, tender and gentle. Phryne responded encouragingly and his arms tightened around her, holding her close.

Bert banged on the door again, making Phryne jump. Jack sighed and pulled away, turning on the light switch. He opened the front door to reveal Bert leaning against the verandah post.

"Took your time!" stated Bert

"We were fumbling around in the dark" said Phryne. She looked at Jack, as he held the door open.

"Thank you for a lovely evening Miss Fisher" he said formally.

"Goodnight Jack" replied Phryne, and she swept down the path, with Bert in her wake.


	14. One final detail

14. One final detail

Late the following week, Jack Robinson received a telephone call from the West Geelong Police Station.

"Inspector Robinson, This is Senior Sergeant Appleby from Geelong West"

"Yes, Senior Sergeant, How can I help you?" asked Jack.

"Well, I have the bad news this time. Constable Walsh has just come in with the latest!"

Jack had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"It appears that Mavis Henderson died last night. The family were in full attendance, of course."

"I'm sorry to hear of her passing" said Jack formally.

"Yes, unfortunately it was her time! Walsh said there is a lot of family who will miss her"

"As will I"

"Anyway, the funeral is on Monday, down here at Our Lady's. The notice will be in "The Argus" tomorrow."

"Thank you Sergeant Appleby. I will be in touch with the family; I think I have to be in court on Monday, I don't know if I can get to the funeral."

"That's all right Inspector. She has lots of family to see her off. It's not like she was your next of kin!"

Jack sighed and thanked Senior Sergeant Appleby and hung up. He checked his calendar. He was due in court which was something he could not avoid. He would have to settle for a condolence card. He reflected that there would be so many family members, he would not be missed!

Jack drummed his fingers on the desk. He would have to find a new housekeeper now. With advertising, it would not be difficult. He could leave a notice in the local grocers, but there was one more thing that he had to do. He continued to drum on his desk, putting off the inevitable.

Then he spun his chair around to face the filing cabinet, and pulled open the drawer that was marked "Personnel". Jack skipped through the files until he pulled out the file marked "Robinson" and opened it to the page he wanted. He knew what was written there.

"Next of Kin: Rosie Robinson: Wife". It was crossed out. "George Sanderson: Deputy Commissioner/ Father –in-law". Also crossed out, then "Mavis and Bill Henderson: Neighbours".

Jack sighed again and crossed out their names. He stared at the page, what little space that was left. His sister lived a long way away. He needed to nominate someone who lived in town. Someone who, if the need arose, could check on his house, visit him in hospital and look after his affairs. Jack looked around his desk, took a breath and wrote down a name. Then he slammed the file shut and put it away.

THE END (for now!)


End file.
